


Birds and Bats and Sibling Spats

by Maesonry



Series: Semaphore [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), The Batman who Laughs - Fandom
Genre: Adoptive Parent Wally West, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bruce Wayne is an okay parent, Canonical Character Death, Families of Choice, Fellas is it gay to be a good parent?, Flash Genuinely Didn’t Mean to Adopt These Kids, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, He’s Stuck With Them Now tho lol, He’s Trying ):, Hurt/Comfort, Past Character Death, Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24723475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maesonry/pseuds/Maesonry
Summary: “Do you miss them?” She asks. Damian thinks about how to put to words missing someone who’s still there, but different. How to miss someone who doesn’t know you.“A little.”If they could, he wonders if they missed him too.A Batman Who Laughs AU, where Damian never became a Rabid Robin.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne & Tiresias Of Themyscira, Damian Wayne & Wally West, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Wally West & Tiresias Of Themyscira
Series: Semaphore [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783315
Comments: 34
Kudos: 127





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based in the Semaphore universe, set directly after Fate. The canon is a little wonky because I played with it; Flash is Wally, and Damian is about ten or so. It’s very sexy of me to make own canon
> 
> Set in an AU after the Batman Who Laughs

A scream.

“Leave me alone!”

Damian leapt from the building, taking the landing in a roll. The man’s voice was coming from the alley nearby. There was sounds of a struggle, and the screaming became muffled, and Damian prepared to drop down to end the issue before it could turn worse. There was a brief flutter beside him, and he turned to see his adoptive sister, Tiresias, land next to him. 

“I’ll cover the exit,” she whispered, her voice as detached as usual. Damian nodded. 

“Stay low.”

She disappeared into the shadows, bronze and crimson fabric melding into darkness. In the next moment, Damian grappled down from the top of the building, dropping down the rest of the length to land with a small thud. It startled the larger of the pair, a woman with too many teeth in her smile- a smile that quickly became a scowl. 

“Go back to your mommy, kid,” she hissed. “It’s past your bedtime, and-“

Why did criminals insist on monologues? Damian rushed forward, ramming the hilt of his sword into her side. She dropped the man with a grunt, before recovering. She leapt at Damian, who rolled backwards, dodging the swipe of sharp talons. There was a pause. The woman began to make a break for the exit. The man on the ground groaned, and Damian noticed a small pool of blood forming around his body. He might not survive if Damian opted to pursue the criminal. Damian scowled, but rushed towards the man’s side, preparing to stem the bleeding as the attacker laughed and ran out the alley. 

Or, she would have, had Tiresias not been there to stop her. There was a muffled thunk, as Tiresias evidently punched the criminal with her bracer, and then the sounds of struggle stopped. 

“Shrike is down,” Tiresias stated, hefting the woman up over her shoulder and walking to Damian. “How is he?”

“Stabilized. The medical staff can handle him,” Damian affirmed. “Let us drop them off.”

Tiresias reached down and hefted the unconscious man into her arms, careful not to jostle him overtly. Damian glowered, and she made a light laugh.

“You are still too short, little wing.“

“But I _am_ strong enough.”

“Perhaps. But, I do not think he would enjoy having his feet dragging on the ground.”

“Well _I_ think-“

There was movement. A puff of displaced air, a streak of red, and then the Flash, appearing in front of them. At first, he appeared alarmed, but then he sighed, running a hand through his hair- had it not been under his cowl.

“Jeez. Okay, what is this, like, the fifth time I’ve caught you guys patrolling this week?”

Tiresias blinked, though the action was hidden behind her domino mask, and by her blind eyes. “Seventh.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “It was a rhetorical question, sister. And,” Damian crossed his arms, “I don’t exactly see how that is your concern, Flash.”

“Uh, well. First off, this is kind of my city. And secondly- you guys are, like, twelve? Maybe? And you’re patrolling on your _own_ , which is kind of concerning, and-“

Damian started walking towards the nearby police car. Tiresias followed. Flash, in turn, followed them. Still talking.

“-seriously, don’t you guys have school tomorrow? I’m not sure if crime fighting is really a good extracurricular activity but I definitely think this is cutting into your sleep schedules.”

Damian nodded to the police officer on duty, and Tiresias mostly shoved Shrike into the backseat of the cop car, before gently handing off the unconscious victim and giving a little wave. Flash balked.

“Shrike? You guys caught _Shrike?_ ” Flash turned to Damian and Tiresias. “Flamebird, Celestial- I. Okay, you know what? I gotta go, but I swear, when I get back, we are going to have a talk about vigilante... stuff.” He made a motion with his hands, stared at them for a moment, before disappearing in a flash of red. Tiresias hmmed.

“Let’s go home, little wing. I’m hungry.” 

Damian agreed. Besides, if Flash wanted to lecture them, he could just go find them again and be a nuisance about it. For now, Damian and Tiresias walked the rest of the way to their apartment, before clambering up the fire escape when they knew no one was around to see. The window to their apartment was locked tight, but with a press of her bare hand and a flash of gold, Tiresias opened it. She smiled benignly. 

“Wards are still up.” She clambered inside, helping Damian in behind her. The hidden sigils glowed for a moment, flashing in turn with her eyes, and then it was locked as before. Immediately, Tiresias began removing her costume, the armor and fabric being set away in their proper places as she disappeared into the bedroom, coming out with her Amazonian attire and a nightshirt for Damian. 

“Thank you, Tia.”

“Of course. Want to reheat the Moussaka?”

“Tt, it _is_ about to go bad, isn’t it? Good idea.”

Damian went to change, and when he came back in, Tiresias had popped the food out of the microwave and brought it to the sofa, setting it down on the coffee table. Damian grinned, just a little. 

“Pennyworth would have a fit if he saw this.” Damian plopped down on the sofa, grabbing at a plate and eating. Tiresias laughed. It sounded near and warm, as opposed to the polite lie, the distant and airy one of the past. She had sauce on her face, and she jabbed her fork vaguely at him.

“At eating on the sofa, or using the microwave?”

“Both, probably.”

She grinned. They ate mostly silently, and as Tiresias set her plate down, she looked vaguely contemplative. A little detached, uncertain. “Do you miss your family, Damian?”

Damian frowned. He looked down at his empty plate, though his mind was elsewhere, and it was hard to try and deny something he still felt strongly, even now. Not that he ever would, with his sister. 

“Yes. I think.”

He missed Grayson. He missed ice cream after patrol, even though he insisted he didn’t want it. He missed fighting alongside his brother, and grinning as they fought the villain of the week and won. The feeling of pride, and of acceptance. He missed, though he loathed to admit it, bantering with Drake. Tormenting his older sibling, beating him at games and even begrudgingly taking care of him when he insisted on staying awake for weeks on end. He missed Todd’s digs and Cassandra’s quiet smiles and Pennyworth’s cooking, Thomas’ incredulousness. Damian missed... he missed his father. The father he had before, the father that cared for his family, cared for his city, allowed Damian to be himself and told him he was proud of him. 

Damian did miss his family. But the ones in this world, they weren’t his family. They were the family of a different Damian, of Damian Wayne. A family where Batman had never killed them. A happier family for that, and in all the ways he was different, in better ways, Damian had seen. Not his family. It ached.

“Yes, I do,” Damian admitted, “but they are not the same. Us meeting would help no one.”

Tiresias nodded, looking at the wall now. Damian inclined his head towards her.

“And what of you? Themyscira is still here, in the world. Why not go? Meet them again.”

Tiresias looked so tired, as he said that. She looked every inch, in that moment, of the however many hundreds of years old she truly was, despite still being considered a mere child by their standards. 

“Mother only sees a stranger when she looks at me. It’s... not like you, where Batman sees you, and knows you. I never existed in this world. Can you imagine that? To be a stranger to even your own family?” Tiresias closed her eyes. Yes, Damian thought, more than I should know, and yet not enough. Instead, he said nothing, because nothing he could say would make this better. Their pain was immense. Only time could make it better. 

Minutes passed in that silence. Gradually, it became less oppressive, until Tiresias shifted on the sofa, tucking her legs together. She had a smile that was only a little ungenuine.

“I bet if we ask nicely, Wally might adopt us,” Tiresias prodded. Damian screwed his face up in disgust, and her smile became real again, wispy giggles. “He seems nice. I think, though, that he is a little stupid. In a nice way. Like... what is it, Santa?”

“Are you- comparing Flash to _Santa_?”

“Is it not Santa? Oh, right, forgive me. He is like Richard.”

Damian smacked her arm. “No he is not! He-“ and Tiresias laughed, well and true, and Damian scowled. “You were messing with me,” he accused. 

“You _are_ very easy to tease,” she confessed.

“Tt. Just for this, the next time we see Flash, I’m throwing you under the bus.”

“So cruel to your big sister, Dami.”

“And you must wash the dishes tonight.”

Tiresias laughed again. It sounded like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again lads


	2. Chapter 2

“Flamebird, status.”

Damian pressed his fingers against his comm, eyes still scanning the rooftops. “All clear over here, Celestial. Any sign of them?”

The communicator crackled for a moment. “Nothing. They must have gone through the sewers.”

Damian sighed explosively. It wasn’t Tiresias’ fault, of course, but it was still frustrating. It had been mere days since Shrike was apprehended, but her hoard of followers still ran rampant in her name. The latest of which had, evidentially, escaped yet again. But... it was still the beginning of patrol. Maybe they could still do some good tonight. Damian leaned back against the building wall, rubbing his stiff arm. 

“Let’s meet up at the rendezvous point, Tia. I tire of playing watchdog.” 

“Of course. Give me a few minutes to make my way over there, little wing.” 

There was the distinct sound of fabric rustling, and then the comm was silenced. If Damian squinted, he pretended he could see Tiresias amongst the shadows, but the truth was, she was remarkably good at blending in for someone who couldn’t see at all. Not as good as Damian, he thought with a grin. After all, he could see her on the rooftop right over-

That wasn’t Tiresias.

Damian almost drew his sword. Instead, he froze, trying to act as though he didn’t notice the person watching him from afar. The ways the shadows looked around their cape made it obvious who it was; after all, how could Damian forget Batman? But the question was, why was Batman watching Damian patrol in Keystone City? Gotham was hours away. There had to be a reason, and it couldn’t just be a casual visit. Something when he was alone, when Tiresias wasn’t in sight. Damian’s lightly shaking hand shot up to his comm. 

“Sister. Batman is here,” he whispered. The line was silent for a moment, before she replied, voice harsh and rattled.

“Where are you? Are you safe?” 

Damian clutched the tiny device like a lifeline, trying not to show his watcher how shaken it made him. “I’m at the rendezvous point. He-“ The shadows shifted. Damian realized, a moment too late, that Batman wasn’t alone. Someone only a little shorter, black and blue costume. Even more familiar than Batman. Damian had spent years with him, had looked up to him, idolized him- and now, a dimension away, Damian could still recognize him. Damian took a few steps back, realizing how outnumbered he was. Tiresias crackled in his ear.

“Damian? Damian, _are you safe_?”

Nightwing moved. Damian hissed, turning around and bolting. Tiresias cursed.

“I- I’m getting backup!” 

Then, the comm went silent. Damian wondered, for a moment, what she meant by ‘backup’, but there wasn’t enough time to think about, not when he was being pursued by a living ghost of the past. Not his Grayson, but didn’t that make it worse, maybe? Still, this too was familiar, much like patrol in Gotham. Damian flew across the rooftops, and Nightwing was close behind, leaping and rolling over obstacles with acrobatic grace, while Damian moved like the league assassin he had been trained to be, mixing with Batman’s style and even Tiresias’ maneuverability. That last part was enough of an edge, at least, to keep some distance between Damian and Grayson. Something he couldn’t have prepared for. 

“Slow down! I just want to talk!” Nightwing shouted. Damian took a running start off the building, falling through the air and landing across the gap with a grunt.

“Well, I don’t!” Damian yelled back. He wasn’t sure if Batman was also following, but he couldn’t- or maybe didn’t want to- look behind himself to check. But, maybe he should have, because there was the distinctive sound of a bola being thrown through the air, and Damian hissed as he tried, and failed, to dodge. He reached for his sword and quickly cut through the bola rope, but by the time he was back on his feet, Nightwing was only a few steps away. Damian fell into a battle stance. 

“I don’t want to fight you, Dami-“ Nightwing attempted. Damian bared his teeth.

“You don’t know me, and I don’t want to know you. Leave me alone!” 

“Just because you’re from some other world doesn’t mean you’re not my brother!” Grayson tried desperately. Damian just kept backing up. A part of him wanted, so strongly, to believe Grayson’s words. To go to his family and just... pretend nothing had happened. That they’d never died in another world and that Damian belonged here. But, this wasn’t his family. The only family he had was Tiresias, now. That’s all he needed. They needed each other, and that was it.

“You don’t even know me, Grayson,” Damian spat. 

“I want to!”

“I don’t want you to!”

“Woah, easy there, let’s all just take a step back for a second.” A new voice cut through. Damian and Nightwing turned to face to new visitor, and both were equally surprised to see the Flash standing beside them. And, of course, a winded Tiresias as well. Most of her black curls had been ripped free from her ponytail, and she held up her braced wrists in a clear threat, looking wild as any Amazon. 

“Stay away from my brother, Nightwing,” she took a threatening step toward. Nightwing mirrored it.

“ _Your brother_? He’s my brother! I don’t care where he came from, or what Batman says; he needs to come home.”

“He. _Is_. Home.” 

“Oh yeah?” Nightwing drew his escrima sticks. “Wanna bet?”

“Guys!” Flash appeared in between them. “Okay, seriously, what the hell?” Flash pointed to Nightwing. “You- Okay, I totally told about Flamebird and Celestial but, like, not so you could try and beat up a twelve year old? Seriously, what’s going on here?”

Damian discretely reached up to his comm, activating it. “Tia. I’m going to try and get back to base.”

She nodded, but to anyone else, it was simply the breeze. Damian slipped away while Flash and Nightwing argued, while Tiresias blocked the exit from view and Batman hid in the shadows. The instant he was in the clear, he ran, rushing back to their apartment. He made sure that his route wasn’t able to be traced, and the moment he tapped the glass to open the window, he felt a sense of exhaustion and relief flood him. The exhaustion quickly outweighed the ease, and Damian managed a few careful footsteps into the living room before unceremoniously collapsing onto the sofa. The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead. Something about the airflow, Tiresias had said. Felt like home.

Damian rolled onto his side, grabbing one of the blankets Tiresias and he had gotten. It smelled like sea salt and crunchy peanut butter. Probably because he’d gotten peanut butter on it before. It was comforting and warm, and Damian pulled it over his head and curled up, eyes still on the window as he waited for his sister. Pretended that Nightwing was but a distant memory. 

By the time Tiresias returned, Damian had fallen asleep. She carefully picked him up, setting him down on his bed in the bedroom, before she clambered up into her hammock and fell asleep as well. Both in their patrol clothes, but, it some ways, that was comforting too.

Batman turned away from the apartment window and left quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot slowly thickens. Been a while since I’ve done this many plot strands at once but I think it’ll work well. Also flash is fun to write, and emotionally constipated Batman


	3. Chapter 3

The daylight was warm on Tiresias’ skin. Her costume seemed to catch the light, broadcasting something like protection, or valor. Instead of melding into the shadows, Tiresias thrived in the sun. In comparison, Damian felt more like a duck out of water. Gotham’s nighttime was a different beast to Keystone City’s daylight, and Damian chafed under it, only a little. His hood cast shadows over his face as he observed the people below.

“Something on your mind?” Tiresias asked, sitting down next to him on the edge. Damian huffed. Stayed silent for a moment, as he didn’t wish to appear petulant, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was so twisted up. Or, he could, but he didn’t want to admit it.

“Why can they not just leave me alone?” Damian whispered. He plopped down next to his sister, kicking his legs out over the ledge. The wind tore his hood from his head, but he couldn’t care. Tiresias, with a shift, moved closer to him, just enough that their arms touched. Damian leaned into it, and his face was less severe, if only a little. ”I don’t want anything to do with them. Why can’t they understand that?”

Tiresias made a vague, rumbled noise. “It is their way. It is as... selfish, as it is selfless,” she waved her hand around, before turning to Damian, her eyes unseeing but comforted in the sun. “Do you resent them?”

Not just for trying to speak to him, the unsaid words spoke, but for dying. For failing to be there for him, when he needed them most. Even if it wasn’t their fault, a part of his mind would always feel desperate for blame. Damian cast his head away.

“I don’t know.”

They lapsed into silence. Down below, people continued about their lives, rushing to work or to lunch or whatever the wind urged them to do. No one seemed to pay any mind to the two vigilantes, seated far above them. The crime here was tucked far away, hidden in offices and homes. And maybe Damian was just a little tired, too, of daytime patrol. Tiresias, at the very least, was very perceptive. She nudged his shoulder with her own, before holding her hand out.

“Practice?” she smiled. Damian’s scowl left him, and he nodded, removing a gauntlet and holding his bare hand out. The bracer she gave him still shined in the light of the sun, and Tiresias gently grabbed his hand and closed her eyes. The muscles around the edges crinkled with frustration.

“What do you see?” Damian asked, voice slipping into the vague, mentor quality that Batman had often used.

“Nothing... no, no- there’s red. I see red,” she slowly spoke. There was a soft, golden light emitting from her eyes, but never so strong as it once was. And her face slowly twisted into a rare scowl, though her grip was never anything but gentle. 

“Do you see any shapes?”

“No. It’s... like looking for something deep below sea. Maybe some yellow.”

“Does it feel?”

She clenched her eyes shut even more. “...like homecoming.” She grit her teeth. “And... fear.”

A thin trickle of gold ran down her cheeks. She opened her eyes.

And suddenly, there was a wish of displaced air, and Damian and Tiresias were whisked away from the edge. Damian, if held under duress, might say that he squeaked. Tiresias made a sound like a startled cactus. Both moved to save the other before themselves, but before they could blink, they were on the ground again. Just, away from the ledge. And the Flash was standing in front of them, arms crossed. 

“You guys gave me a heart attack!” Flash practically shouted. He uncrossed his arms so he could fiddle with his sleeves, the movement unconscious. “What am I supposed to think when I see two kids on the edge of a building, huh? I- oh, hey, wait...” his voice became softer as he looked at Tiresias, “You’re bleeding. I- Flamebird, do you have any...” 

Damian sniffed primly, pulling out a small cloth. “I am always prepared.” He handed it to his sister, and she gently accepted, wiping away the small amount of blood and pocketing the rag. The Flash looked torn. Damian decided to be the one to explain.

“Tia and I have decided to patrol during the day. For combat practice.” 

Flash shifted, leaning more on one leg. “Right. Which explains why your sister was bleeding from her eyes?”

Damian glanced at Tiresias. Despite not being able to see, she tilted her head somewhat. Taking the lead.

“It is one of my abilities,” she explained. “But, you didn’t come to ask that. I believe you wish to ask about what happened the other night.” 

“Is that another one of your abilities?”

“No,” she smiled, a bit like a shark, “just a lucky guess.”

Flash rubbed his arm awkwardly. “Well, yeah, I guess. Why did Nightwing attack you guys? Why was Batman here? And why did you run away without explaining? They didn’t say anything either, and I’ve known Nightwing for a long time and I’ve never seen him do that kind of stuff before. What gives?”

That was asking a lot. But Tiresias shifted towards Damian, brushing her hand against his arm, wordlessly saying, _maybe he deserves to know._ Damian nudged her side. _But can we trust him?_ She stilled somewhat. Her mouth was firmer, but then she smiled, a little sadder, a little more lost. That much, Damian could understand as clear as day. He never knew Wally West. But Tiresias had. And she wished to know him again, here. Who was Damian to refuse his big sister?

“It’s... complicated. But, we can explain. At our base, if you would like,” Tiresias offered. Something was painfully hopeful about that tone, buried deep under layers of professional distance. Flash looked wary for a moment, but then smiled, shaking it off, quite literally. 

“Y’know what? Sure. You got a ride? Some kind of- Birdcopter?” Flash began walking alongside them. Tiresias snorted as Damian scowled.

“We do not have a ‘birdcopter’. Honestly, you’re worse than Nightwing.”

“Birdbike?”

Tiresias’ laughter tumbled like an ocean wave. “Why would we have a bike if we are on the roofs? Do you have a Flash Van?”

Flash rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, funny story-“

It wasn’t long until they arrived at their apartment. Again, Damian staked it out to ensure they weren’t being watched or followed, doubly so with the Flash acting as some kind of gigantic red beacon. Tiresias slipped in first, and the Flash looked surprised as he entered behind her, looking around. Damian closed the window behind them.

“So. I did not expect an apartment, I gotta say,” Flash said. “I was a teen vigilante though so I guess I can’t really argue. Do your parents know? Am I about to get punked by the Chris Hansen of vigilantes?”

“I do not know who that is,” Tiresias stated blandly. “We don’t have parents, either. Apricot?”

“I- wait, no, hold on. You’re both orphans?”

Damian and Tiresias shared a look, and Damian spoke instead, as Tiresias was eating her apricot. “Yes. Perhaps it will make more sense when we remove our masks. Sister?”

Tiresias nodded. Damian removed his mask, mindful of the glue holding it in place. Tiresias did the same, with slightly stickier fingers. The Flash balked.

“Okay. This makes more sense, and somehow, less sense. I... guess I should tell you mine, too?” The Flash removed his cowl with an uncertain expression, before smiling, his red hair contradting freckled skin. His smile turned to something quizzical, then surprise. “You’re both the kids who came to the Justice League a few weeks ago.”

“Yes,” Tiresias nodded, “From the dead world.”

“You’re Damian,” Flash stared, remembering and realizing, “Damian Wayne? Wait. Your Batman- oh.” He stopped. The sentence was unfinished, but it was still hanging in the air completed. His voice got softer. “J’onn told us what happened in the full debriefing. With the uh... yeah. I’m sorry for joking earlier- wow, I bet I look like a heel now, huh?” 

Damian expected the Flash to be loud. To demand what had happened, to ask why they were running around, fighting crime, when they could have gone back to their ‘families’. Damian expected a lot of things from the superhero, but what he got instead was a gentle silence, and no more questions. It grated on him.

“Don’t you wish to know why we are here?” Damian crossed his arms. 

“Not unless you guys wanna tell me. It’s not like I can force you guys to go to your parents, since these guys aren’t exactly your parents,” Wally rubbed the back of his neck. “If you’re happy and safe here, that’s all I need to know.”

“We are,” Tiresias nodded, resting against the sofa now. 

“Okay. Well, uh, can you tell me why Dick was attacking you guys? I mean. I get it, but I don’t,” Flash sat on the armrest of the sofa, balancing above the floor as he fidgeted. Damian’s face turned a little sour, even as Tiresias nudged him.

“He wanted me to come back home.”

“Like a curfew thing or... wait. He didn’t.”

”He did.”

“Richard means well,” Tiresias whispered, “but he doesn’t understand.”

“When someone’s there, but not really,” Wally nodded. His face was a little sad too. “Yeah, I get it. Okay. Well, I totally won’t be telling Dickie over there anymore about you guys if he’s gonna be a dick about it.”

Tiresias clapped her hands a few times, happily. “I missed you, Wally.” She leaned back over the couch completely, upside down, her curls spilling over Damian’s back. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be sappy, sister,” Damian pushed her a little. She pushed back. They both fell to the couch, then to the floor, both deciding impromptu that it was time to wrestle, or else they would die. It didn’t matter that the Flash was there, laughing at the sight, as Tiresias gleefully performed some complicated Amazonian pin on Damian and he flailed and, maybe, even laughed. 

Damian wasn’t sure what it was about the scene- if watching Tiresias yank West down towards the ground was what made him laugh harder, or the expression on the hero’s face as Tia suplexed him as well. Perhaps it was as Damian decided to join his sister, both ganging up on the superhero. It was an infectious excitement; it reminded Damian of something he had thought he’d lost. Instead of his brothers, down in the cave, he was wrestling with his sister against the Flash, on the floor of an apartment, with a partially eaten apricot teetering dangerously towards them. It was... nice. 

“Say mercy!”

“It’s uncle, sister.”

“Say _uncle!_ ”

“Ow, okay, uncle, uncle- let me go you gremlins! Augh, apricot-!”

Yes, it was nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damian: stop touching me  
> Tia: I’m not touching youuuu  
> Flash: am I the adult?  
> Flash, five seconds later: you’re both horrible gremlins I can’t relieve I’m wrestling you


	4. Chapter 4

They fell into something like an uneasy routine. Damian and Tiresias would patrol at night, and during the day, the Flash would come and check up on them, or drag them out somewhere to eat, or anything at all. Today, he had dropped off fruit, with the comment that they needed to get more vitamins- which, Damian had more than enough of, and he didn’t appreciate the assumption that he’d ever skimp on his or his sister’s health. Tiresias, of course, was elated. In a sad sort of wispy way, when she was remembering something gone now. The fruit was from Greece; Damian resented the Flash just a little for making his sister cry as she ate a nectarine. But it was a good cry, he knew. So he could only resent West a tiny bit, and wonder why he was doing this.

Nighttime came fast. Damian was the first to get into uniform, and he smiled at the familiarly comforting weight of the bracers under his gauntlets. Even though the yellows and greens of the costume had been replaced, the reds remained; a compliment to Tiresias’ colors, as well as the city they now called home. Damian strapped his sword to his back, and turned to his sister. 

“Are you ready, Tia?”

She pulled a face, still struggling to tie her hair up. Judging by the hairbands she held between her teeth and the complicated braid she was doing, it was clear what her answer was. Not that Damian blamed her. Instead of playfully badgering her more, Damian decided to turn to the police radio, flicking it on to get an idea of what they might be up against tonight. 

Sometimes it was good news. Tonight, it seemed, it was not. 

“Code 214-A. Metahuman Shrike has broken out of containment in Weyling County. Last seen headed to Gotham City. Be advised, suspect may return to Keystone. Radio in if any units report a sighting.”

“Shrike?” Tiresias frowned over Damian’s shoulder. It spoke of how close they were now that he didn’t even jump at her sudden appearance. Instead, he nodded, tuning the radio to the GCPD station with distant, familiar movements. It crackled to life despondently.

“-report. Suspect is at Landium and Finch, extremely dangerous. Codename ‘Shrike’. Do not approach alone. Metahuman containment units are enroute-“

Damian shut off the radio. “They’re going to get torn to shreds out there,” he hissed. It was a grim but true statement; Shrike was named Butcherbird for a reason. 

“Batman could handle it,” Tiresias said, but her face was settled into the thinking mask as Damian faced her. 

“He’s not the one I’m worried about,” Damian mumbled. Thinking of his brothers. She blinked, slow and careful. 

“Do you wish to help them?”

“ _Warn_ them. Drake is smart enough to know what to do from there,” Damian sniffed dismissively. Distantly, he remembered the days when every mention of Drake’s name would be followed by insult. Now, there was only remorse. Damian wondered if things would have turned out differently, if only he had loved his brother properly.

Tiresias settled her chin on Damian’s head, sensing the shift in mood from the silence. “He never hated you,” she hummed, absently.

“So you say.”

“So I know. Please don’t blame yourself, little brother.”

Damian lowered himself down a little bit more, letting Tiresias lean into him more. He never knew how his sister could tell when he was thinking of his family, of how he blamed himself, but he was always grateful she was there for him nonetheless. 

“I doubt the Drake of this world thinks the same for his Damian.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing you are not his Damian. You are _my_ Damian,” she punctuated the statement by poking his cheek, and Damian groaned theatrically, but she still continued, “and you are the best little brother in the world. Because, as the Queen of the Amazons-“

“Sisteeeeerrr, please-“

“- _I_ proclaim you _are_.”

Damian giggled, slapping her hand away. “You cannot use that for every argument. I don’t think it counts anymore.”

She pulled back, but she was smiling too, eyes gray and shining. “So you say... Princess of the Amazons.”

“You’re insufferable!” Damian groaned. 

“Only when you need to smile, little brother,” she hummed. And now that Damian thought about it, he _was_ smiling. Truly, Tiresias was devious in subterfuge. He leaned back into the chair, uncrossing his arms as he thought about what to do, now with clearer mind.

“... we will need to go to Gotham and warn them. I know Red Robin’s patrol route, of course. There shouldn’t be any issues finding him.”

Though, the issue was more with getting to Gotham, considering how far away Keystone City was. Evidentially, Damian had mumbled that last part out loud, as Tiresias clapped her hands together.

“I have the sigils for that.”

Oh. Well then, never mind. Damian turned to her, surprised, and she waved a dismissive hand. “If I cannot see the future clearly, I can still do wards and creations. I’ve been _practicing._ ” She sounded incredibly proud. So Damian nodded, and watched as his sister grabbed the jars of golden blood from under the sink, beginning to draw the sigils on the ground. He wondered if this was technically a biohazard. Possibly. Alfred would have a fit about it, at least. Tiresias laid the groundwork, and before long at all, she stood back, beckoning a hand to Damian. 

“Where will this lead?”

“One of the focai spots of the city. I’m hoping for a park.”

Damian scrunched his nose up, remembering that Poison Ivy was still at large. “I’m hoping for a sewer.”

Tiresias’ amused look was stolen away by the glow of light in the air, and then they were both gone from their apartment in between breaths. On the exhale, they landed on concrete, with Tiresias steadying Damian and vice versus. They were quick to get their bearings. 

On the first inhale, Damian knew he was back in Gotham City. The smell of the air was still the same, and a part of him ached for it still, despite everything. The way the buildings loomed and the very architecture cradled them, hiding their forms in the shadows. All Damian had to do was back up a step, and he was practically invisible. It was familiar, and it was comforting. But even then, their costumes were off ever so slightly. Something about the soft edges, the warm colors. They were for a different city. And try as Damian might, he felt it in his bones. Like rejection, or betrayal. 

“Gotham looks beautiful,” Tiresias said. Damian looked to her, torn from his thoughts.

“Yes, it- ah.” He looked to her eyes. Blind eyes. She smiled. “I see.”

“Try not to brood so much, little brother,” her smile became softer, more gentle. “It will be alright.”

He hoped she was right.

“We’re nearby Red Robin’s patrol route,” Damian stated. “He won’t have made a move on Shrike yet, not without someone else. Red Hood’s patrol route is close to his- I’m willing to assume they’ll try to meet up to face her, with Nightwing in Blüdhaven, and Batman and Robin tracking down Ivy.”

“Then we should be fast.”

Damian nodded, though she couldn’t see the motion. “Yes. I know the route; follow me.”

Damian leapt from the building, and tracking the sounds, Tiresias followed. The rush of air was familiar, the surge of adrenaline and the feeling of freedom. Damian, _Flamebird_ , soared. Like saying hello after years of goodbye.

It wasn’t long before they reached the route. And it wasn’t long before Damian sensed movement, could tell that Red Robin had noticed them. Chasing after Drake would only lead to confrontation, so Damian stopped, beckoned Tiresias to stop as well. To wait. She settled, projecting an air of confidence, and quietly humming a grocery store jingle under her breath.

Red Robin moved through the shadows like a panther. He was skilled, yes, but Damian had been trained by the League. And it was even easier to spot his brother when he could see Red Hood’s ridiculous shining helmet right behind him.

“Celestial. Red Hood is with him.” Damian’s mouth didn’t move as he spoke, careful not to give anything away. She twitched her relaxed fingers in confirmation. Red Robin dropped down a few moments later, followed by Red Hood. Predictably, Red Hood was the first to speak.

“Well fuck. It really is a tiny version of him.”

Damian had never been particularly close with Todd. But hearing him speak... hearing his dead brother’s voice, alive. Well. Damian cleared his throat, subtly shifting closer to Tiresias. It made sense that Nightwing had told them what happened, or that they’d heard from members of the Justice League. Still, it prickled somewhat along his shoulder blades. 

Red Robin rolled his eyes behind his domino mask. “Eloquent as always, Hood.”

“I aim to please, Replacement.”

Before it could dissolve into thinly veiled arguing, Tiresias cleared her throat. She had almost an entire foot on Red Robin, and a solid few inches on Red Hood. It was rare that she loomed on purpose, but now it seemed was one of those times. Something about the protective sibling instinct made Damian grin, though very slightly. The confidence she radiated could quickly turn sour. “I am Celestial. This is Flamebird. He is contacting you regarding an... issue. In your city.”

“What... issue?” Red Robin hedged uncertainly. “Is it Ivy? Because, we-“

“No.” Damian had regained his confidence, and he squared his shoulders. “Shrike is in your city. We felt that you should know about her before you both get turned into ribbons.” There was a pause. Damian rose an eyebrow. “Do you wish for our help, or not?” 

“Okay. Wait. Yes, but- I’m just a little thrown. You want to help us?” Red Robin’s voice was a little high, disbelieving. Damian’s mouth was a thin line, with an edge of regret at the disbelief. 

“Yes. Even if I am not your family, your safety is still important to me. Attacking Shrike without being prepared would be needlessly foolish.”

“I’m with Replacement on this one, this is freaky,” Red Hood shifted. Tiresias looked a bit more, and he turned to face her, unimpressed stance. “You League? No offense, but Talia probably gave you the short stick here with the short stack.”

“He is my little brother,” Tiresias stated harshly, then softer. “Is it so wrong to think that he might want to help?”

“Setting aside the brother thing, yes, a little.” Red Robin shifted awkwardly, not making eye contact. “Considering he tried to kill me twice. And actively hates my guts.”

“He tried to kill me once too,” Hood added, but he didn’t sound too torn up about it. 

Damian shoved past Tiresias so that he was standing in front of her, his face stormy. “I‘m not him! _He_ is an ungrateful, spoiled child, who has never had to face anything like hardships in his life. _He_ never saw his own father kill his family! And _his father_ never tried to kill him! To kill everyone!” 

Damian was shaking with rage. Tiresias had her bracers ready, prepared for a fight. A fight that, Damian realized, wouldn’t come. Not with Red Robin and Red Hood gaping at him. Of course Damian had assumed they knew. He thought so. But as they stared at him, perhaps they didn’t. Not everything, at least.

“What the fuck?” Red Hood strangled out. “B killed us?” Silence. Red Hood turned to Red Robin. “Did you know?” He demanded.

“No. I- the reports. They didn’t mention it.”

Red Hood gave a harried, high strung laugh. “Of fucking course they wouldn’t. Batman can’t have his child soldiers realize what he did!”

This was getting out of hand. Tiresias sighed, then spoke, voice detached, level. “It wasn’t his fault. He could only hold it off long enough for us to kill him in the end. Barely.”

“I,” Hood stepped back, breathing decisively, “need to go beat up some bad guys,” he turned to Red Robin, “Don’t follow me.” 

He grappled away. Leaving Red Robin there, still trying to pick up the rest of his tattered composure. Damian looked away.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew,” he apologized. And that just seemed to make it worse, as Red Robin put a hand to his head.

“No, it’s- you’re fine. I just... didn’t expect this. Or you.” Red Robin inhaled, held it, then exhaled. “So, Flamebird. You said something about Shrike? What can you tell us?”

This, Damian could do. Gladly. The explanation was peppered with warnings for caution, explaining just how dangerous she was, how cunning. That she preferred to capture her victims and torment them for hours before killing them. That she fed that way. Her followers, worshipping her viciousness, her hatred. All of it, and yet, not enough. 

At the end of it, Red Robin looked grimly determined. It was clear he was going to use the information wisely. But he lingered, face unreadable, staring at Damian and Tiresias. Like he wanted to speak, but didn’t know the words. He turned his eyes to Tiresias. “Thank you for being there. For him.”

Her eyes were soft. Sad, in that familiar way, like eating nectarines, or singing old songs. “Of course.”

Red Robin returned his gaze to Damian. Just stared at him, uncertain, before tentatively spreading his arms open. Because Drake knew what it felt like to lose people, for them to come back but wrong. To lose them forever, even. And Damian hated him for it, hated him so strongly, ran forward and collided with his chest. Hated him. Hated him for dying, for leaving, hated him for letting Damian insult him and belittle him and for forgiving him. Damian hugged Drake, the brother he didn’t have anymore, and he imagined hugging _his_ Drake. Imagined saying sorry, and wishing he had done this more often. Or ever. Never enough, and now it was too late. 

But this was enough now. It was enough. Damian hugged his brother, and Tiresias smiled softly, and Gotham hummed its aching tune of melancholy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family huuuug. Kind of. Things are kind of working out, but not really. Yet. Shoutout to Tia for being the nectarine eating champ of the year


	5. Chapter 5

The night dragged on. Damian and Tiresias lingered in Gotham, with Damian wishing to ensure Drake and Todd were safe, and Tiresias needing to recover before another travel. Hours of waiting could be terminal, but it was still miles better than the first time they traveled. Neither of them were dying, for one. Still, Damian felt an unease about being in the city he once called home. He could patrol, maybe, but that felt incorrect as well. Or maybe improper. Dangerous, with another Damian running around- still as Robin- and that would be a confrontation that would go well for neither. But, still, the waiting was uncomfortable. Even as the police channel said that Shrike had been apprehended, Damian still felt ill at ease with the quiet. Tiresias, it seemed, was uneasy too. 

“Gotham is beautiful, I think,” Tiresias spoke after the silence became grating, “Mother spoke of it in passing. Which is more than most.” Tia shifted her crossed legs, dragging one foot across the rooftop, like studying it. “There was a restaurant, somewhere. Richard took me there when I first met him.”

Damian, despite himself, leaned in slightly as she told the story. Perhaps because it was _his_ Grayson, in the story. A feeling of painful longing burned his chest, threatening to tear him apart, but Damian still listened, perfectly silent. Tiresias’ face was softer as she looked to him.

“He was smaller. Happier. He asked me about Themyscira, and about Mother, and then he ate- he ate so many pancakes, I assumed that all Men were like that,” she smiled. Damian grinned, the sorrow abating somewhat.

“I called him repulsive when I first ate with him,” Damian stated. “He inhaled an entire bucket of fried chicken. It was the most horrifying thing I had ever witnessed.”

“Oh, fried chicken!” Tiresias blinked, sitting up, “He promised me he’d have me try it on a waffle.” Her smile dropped a few inches after a breath, and she added, softer, “Well. Not anymore, I think.”

Damian had a choice, he realized, as he sat with his sister on the rooftops of Gotham. He could comfort her with words, as he often did- try to mend the wound that loss had left them with. Or, he decided as he looked up, he could try and do something instead. How many times had Tiresias done the same for him? So many he had lost count. Then, perhaps it was time he returned the favor. Damian stood up, glancing over to his sister as he rose a hand up to his communicator. It was... it was a risk, but maybe she would appreciate it. 

And so, Damian quietly activated the comm line for the Flash. He waited for the sound of connection, and then he spoke, his voice quiet, yet loud enough to drift to Tiresias as he spoke. 

“Flash. It’s Flamebird.”

The line experienced a moment of static, wind bruising the receiver, before Flash spoke. “Flash here. You guys okay?” His tone was professional, but concern bled into it at the end.

“We need you in Gotham,” Damian said in lieu of an explanation. “Quickly, if possible.”

“Gotham?” There was the sound of air rushing again, as the Flash likely began speeding towards them. “Oh god, tell me it’s not Nightwing again- did he kidnap you, is that what’s happened? Is this the trouble?” Flash began to speed up. Tiresias tilted her head, curious, before activating her own communicator.

“We are safe. We are observing Shrike’s placement in Arkham at the moment.”

Flash was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was a little strained. “You went after Shrike _again_?”

“Tt. We are not children; we had Red Hood and Red Robin take care of her,” and then Damian looked a little embarrassed, biting the side of his mouth. “And... now we are waiting with nothing to do. And Tia wishes to try chicken and waffles, but we do not have any funds.”

Tiresias’ face softened as Damian admitted the reason behind the call. Good- it had been the right move, then. There was a burst of displaced air beside them, and Damian blinked expectantly as the Flash appeared in the space. He looked concerned for a moment, but it faded when he assessed that both Damian and Tiresias were fine. Though, his eyes stopped on Tiresias.

“Aw, hey, what’s wrong?” Flash asked. Tiresias glanced down like a guilty child, and when the Flash looked over to Damian, Damian crossed his arms uncomfortably. Flash, if anything, somehow looked more uncertain. “Did something happen?”

“We spoke to Red Robin and Red Hood,” Damian waved his hand, sniffing with mock disdain, “It’s nothing important.”

“We talked about Nightwing. Our Nightwing,” Tiresias said the confession, her voice bare. “I miss him.”

Damian closed his eyes. It didn’t hide the hurt. Flash’s voice wasn’t pitying, or condescending, or anything or the sort. He spoke easily, familiar. “I just so happen to know a place that serves amazing chicken and waffles here, actually.” It was as much an offer of comfort as it was an offer for conversation. Tiresias glanced up, and Damian opened his eyes. A silent conversation passed that only they would ever be able to have.

“I think I would like that,” Tiresias stated, as Damian nodded in agreement. Flash gave one of his signature smiles, before opening his arms, voice shifting into that of a pilot.

“Everyone, please prepare for departure.”

Tiresias scurried to her feet, rising to her full height and standing expectantly. Flash had done this before; and every time, she was as excited as the last. As she ran towards the Flash and threw herself into his outstretched arms, Damian smiled as well. Mostly because Flash was visibly struggling to hold Tiresias up. Damian cleared his throat, then easily leapt forward, jumping onto the hero’s back and looping his arms around the man’s neck. Admirably, the Flash pretended everything was perfectly fine. 

“Hang on tight. I don’t want you guys becoming vigilante pancakes,” Flash stated, a smile in his voice as he geared up. Damian squeezed his hold. And just as ever, the Flash took off.

It wasn’t a particularly fast run, by his standards. Damian had seen the superhero in action before, after all. But this was the perfect speed to go faster than the average run, while still ensuring Damian and Tiresias didn’t become comical smears on the ground. And perhaps, under extreme duress, Damian could admit that it was enjoyable as well. Mother and Father had never had time for anything so comical as this. Never anything as childish as running through the city on piggyback, to get diner food late at night. Tiresias whooped from the front, and the Flash rambled about, for whatever reason, the air pressure of the city, and Damian smiled in turn and held on just a little tighter.

It wasn’t long before they stopped. The Flash slowed his run to a jog, letting them lose the momentum, before stopping carefully and expectantly in front of what could best be described as a derelict steel trolley. But, as Damian slid off of Flash’s back, he could see that there was a diner inside. Tiresias shifted blearily as she stood on the ground once more. 

“Me and this guy go way back,” Flash confided, assuringly. “Back when I was Kid Flash and I’d be in Gotham to visit Dick, this is the first place I’d stop. They’ve got great breakfast burritos actually.”

The trio walked through the door. An instant later, the cook stuck his head in from the kitchen. “Welcom’ t’ the Steel Trolley Diner, what can I-“ he paused. Blinked. “Oh, hey, hey! ‘S that you, Flash? Where’ve you been, kiddo?”

The cook then proceeded to leap over the counter, walk forward, and aggressively rub the top of Flash’s head. The hero in question sputtered. 

“Careful, you’re gonna give me cowl hair,” he whined, just slightly. The cook rolled his eyes.

“Ain’t gonna be me that gives ya it. Say, you adopt kids or sumn’?” He turned to Tiresias and Damian, peering at them. “Adorable little parasprites, ain’tcha? Bet y’d both be able to kill me with my own ladle. That’s a mark a’ quality, I tells ya Flash, you did good.”

Damian visibly preened at the compliment. Tiresias gave an Amazon smile. And Flash put a hand on his face, rubbing it a little. 

“Thanks, Mr. C, but I don’t think you should tell them how cool it is that they can definitely kill you if they wanted to. I think that’ll give them the wrong life message.”

“Why not? ‘S a good skill. ‘Specially since you costumed types tend t’ fall like flies if ya ain’t careful.” Mister C turned to Damian and Tia, voice pitched low, “Thanks for stickin’ around this muck. Don’ let’em get vaporized like the last one.” Then, he clapped his hands together, loud. “Alright. What can I getcha?”

Tiresias ordered the chicken and waffles. Damian chose a vegetarian omelette. And Flash, with confidence, ordered one of every item on the menu. Or, as the cook said it, ‘the usual’. And their food arrived quickly- which was to say, Tia and Damian’s. The Flash had dishes slowly piling up as they all began to eat.

At the first bite of her chicken and waffles, Tiresias cried. Damian was slightly startled, while the Flash was moderately to severely concerned. 

“What’s wrong?” Flash asked, leaning over the table with a mouthful of jelly toast. 

“Is it that good, sister?” Damian also asked, eating his food with much more restraint. Tiresias laughed a little around the bite in her mouth, rubbing at her eyes.

“It’s just... meat, and pastry,” she laughed again. “I do not know why Richard spoke of it so much. I don’t...” the laugh left her voice. She looked somber, sad. “I don’t understand.”

Damian set his fork down. He understood what she was struggling to articulate; that the meal was fine, but it had been something that Grayson had wanted to share with her. That it was simply food on a plate in a diner, but it was supposed to be eaten with _him_ , it was supposed to be different. It wasn’t just a meal then, it was a... something like a fantasy dream. A promise for the future, to always have time to eat it someday. 

And now there never would be.

Flash, though Damian often made fun of him, understood this as well. He didn’t try to console Tiresias with false words, because there wasn’t anything that would make this better but to let it out. Instead, he nodded to Damian, and the boy Damian scooted closer to his sister.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Letting her lean against him. Letting her rub her eyes against the tears, and look down into her dish. She held her hand against his ungloved palm for a moment, smiled shakily, then turned away.

“It is fine, little brother. I just need a moment.” Tiresias stood up from the booth. Flash looked to her, frowning around a mouthful of biscuit.

“You gonna be okay? I can come with you if you need.”

Her smile became less harsh. “You sound like Mother. I will be fine.”

“I resent that.” Flash’s voice was muffled through the food in his mouth. Damian hissed, and kicked the hero in the knees.

“Don’t you have any manners?”

“I’ll have you know...”

Tiresias closed the door behind herself, and the voices faded out. Unseen now, she wiped away the golden liquid that dripped from her eyes, leaving faint glowing stains in the maroon fabric. She turned to some unseen spot in the darkness.

“I know you are there.”

Silence. It held for a few breaths, until there was the faintest rustling of fabric, and as if materializing from the shadows, Batman appeared. Tiresias didn’t move away, but neither did she try and get closer. A few moments later, there was another sound, and Robin stood beside him. Tiresias stood calmly at her full height. 

“Magic?” Batman rose an eyebrow, no other movements. Tiresias remembered the flash of the future she saw as she held Damian’s hand in the booth. It had been brief. But it had been more than what she had been able to see in months, and it was enough.

“Close.”

“Tt. This is the threat you spoke of? Father, she is not even a challenge- she is _blind_. You must have been incorrect.” Robin crossed his arms. Tiresias tilted her head towards him and specifically did not loom, but only because Batman was there; though she knew he was not the same as her Batman, she still felt that same fear. Towards the Robin? Not so. 

“I don’t remember you being this rude before,” she looked thoughtful for a moment. “Flamebird was right.”

Robin looked indignant at the Insult, even the part he did not fully understand. Tiresias turned away from him anyway, back to Batman. Who was simply staring at her. Studying her.

“How is he?” Batman finally asked. Tiresias’ expression lost some of the acidity, but it didn’t smooth out completely. 

“Happier.” She absently rubbed the bracer on her wrist. “He is loved. Is that not enough?”

“Nightwing would disagree.”

“And so nothing here has changed.”

Robin stalked forwards, pushing past Batman. Tiresias wondered if Damian would get this tall in a few years too, or if this was another difference between worlds. Or, perhaps Damian would be even taller, with his Amazon spirit and soul. It was an interesting thought, wasn’t it? Especially to distract herself from Robin growling.

“Mind your tongue! Nightwing is five times your better, and I will not stand to hear you insult him, least you wish to battle me for his honor.”

“Robin, enough,” Batman frowned. 

“But Father-!”

A single look silenced him. Batman looked back to Tiresias then, and she to him. 

“Thank you. For looking after him,” Batman stated. Tiresias blinked- thinly veiled surprise. 

“You are welcome.”

And Batman nodded, turning away into the shadows. Robin, growling, obviously didn’t want to follow him, but complied. Leaving Tiresias to stand there, still chewing on the gratitude Batman had given. Unfamiliar. Out of place.

Better, than before. Better, she decided, than her Batman- who had been colder. Sadder. Not as warm and apologetic as this. 

Tiresias turned and walked back into the diner.

“Sister! What took you so long?” Damian griped, already halfway done with his food. “I almost sent Flash out to find you.”

Flash didn’t look to be in any place to go running anytime soon, at least until he finished the rest of his pancake ocean. Still, he waved at her as she sat back down. “Little wing over here almost broke both my shins,” he announced with a smile. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

And Tiresias smiled with them, eating another bite of the chicken and waffle that had made her cry. Now, as she ate it, it tasted a little like home, a little like goodbye. “Thank you. I just needed some time, I think.”

They ate the rest of their meal together. They laughed, and teased, and smiled. They were happy; Damian was happy. And if that meant losing what she lost, Tiresias could at least say she had gotten a fair trade, in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Batman awkwardly fumbling his way through trying to check up on his not son is always hilarious to write. And the tactical piggyback ride makes another reappearance
> 
> Pls leave comments they fuel me. I love hearing people gush about “THAT ONE SCENE WAS so CUTE” or “I’m gonna kill you how dare you make me sad”
> 
> And I also love to hear your predications for what you think is gonna happen with this story cause I’m a sucker for being a sucker
> 
> Enjoy lads!


	6. Chapter 6

When the blade entered Damian’s chest, the most he could think of was that he was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. The injury, that was.

The days had been going too well. Tiresias and he had been working around the clock to deal with any criminals that cropped up in Keystone City at night, and sometimes during the day too. In the daytime, West would join them on patrol, and always afterwards they would go out for food, or to watch whatever movie he was insistent was ‘a new cult classic’, or just laze around together at home or anywhere at all. He made awful hot dogs and helped Tiresias braid her hair and let Damian use him as an oversized sparring partner/target. 

It wasn’t planned, but Damian found himself growing fond of the Flash too. There was no subtle disappointment in his choices, not like Father or Mother. West _praised_ ; he did so so frequently that Damian hardly understood it. He remembered his promises, even though such things were for children- and he told awful jokes that somehow always made them smile. 

It was too good to last, Damian thought. Clutches his side, where the knife was still lodged, and effortlessly kicked his attacker back. It was just a stab wound, of course. He’d had them before, when he was younger and less skilled. A shameful occupancy, but nothing serious. 

Yet, as he yanked the knife out, he felt himself stumble. His vision shifted, small at first, then in waves of nausea and instability. Tiresias was watching him in fear. Well, that wouldn’t do at all.

“I’m alright, sister,” Damian said. Or tried to say. What came out was more of a mumbled, slurring mess. He could taste blood on his tongue. Oh, he realized belatedly- poison. 

“No!” Tiresias screamed, as Damian fell to his knees, and then, right to the ground. Alley water pooling around him. It must have been a fast acting poison to do this. Maybe some kind of paralysis effect, given that he felt his lungs seizing up. His eyes were forced open wide, and he watched as his sister punched his assailant so hard their jaw cracked. Saw her crouch over his prone body, voice a steady stream of panicked words as she accessed her communicator. Damian could pick out bits and pieces.

“ _Flash! -poison... -street... Shrike._ ”

The rest of the Shrike Clan fled in her wake. Damian lost consciousness as Tia began doing chest compressions and begging beneath the howl of wind. 

When he woke up, it was cold, and he heard singing.

This was a familiar sensation, at least. The cotton hospital sheets, underneath him and covering him. The feeling of an IV line, the faint pressure of the needle in his arm, and the sound of the hospital machines, mixing with the sterilized smell. He understood this. The ache in his chest from where he had been stabbed was lesser now too, mingling with the bruises he already felt formed on his arms. It wasn’t a normal hospital- it wasn’t the Batcave. He cracked his eyes open, and realized he was in the Watchtower. And there, Tiresias was next to him, her eyes closed, singing to him in Ancient Greek. He recognized the hymn. 

«Little sister, held so tall, with blue eyes like the sea. Little sister, made of bronze, I beg you sleep in peace.» Tiresias’ voice was warm like melted wax, yet stiff and torn. She was worried about Damian. There was a slash across her face, and despite being in a medical facility, the blood hadn’t been washed away, the wound untended to. Damian nudged her hand with his own. 

“Sister,” he croaked, throat dry. Her eyes shot open. Frantically, she fumbled to grab a glass of water, and Damian couldn’t resist needling her, despite himself. “You forgot to swap the words again.”

Tiresias handed him the glass of water. She did so with a smile that was three parts relief, and one part sibling irritation. The irritation faded, replied by pure relief again. “Damian... oh, thank Hera you’re awake.”

The glass was set down just in time for Tiresias to hug him. Gently, of course, mindful of his stab wound. Still, she held him like she would never let him go again. She was warm, and still smelled of the sea despite the antiseptic.

“Tia... your face,” Damian urged. She didn’t let up still. In fact, she just gave a strangled laugh, turning to glass towards the end. 

“You were _poisoned_ , and you are worried about my face? I would have a thousand more wounds like this if I could keep you safe.”

The door to the room opened. The Flash walked in, his cowl hanging down around his neck, his face a little more pale than usual. He choked on whatever he was eating when he saw that Damian was awake, and then there he was, right by Damian’s side, opposite Tiresias.

“You’re awake!- how are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Are you hungry? Cold?” Flash rambled, already darting back and forth to fill up the water pitcher, adjust the blankets, check the saline drip. Somewhere along the line, Tiresias had a water bottle set in her hand, and Damian’s bed gained what appeared to be a cartoon stuffed Superman. Tiresias swapped the water bottle for the Superman. Damian wasn’t entirely certain if this was out of respect for Damian, or simply because she wanted the plush. Either way, the Flash stopped beside Damian again, and Damian shook his head. 

“Tt. I am _fine_. I didn’t expect the knife to be poisoned, unfortunately.”

Flash made a noise like a frustrated elephant. But where with Batman, this would turn into a lecture and then ten more hours of training, West took a second to collect himself. He struggled for a moment, then spoke quieter, voice serious. “Okay. I- know you’re both capable fighters, but seeing you guys get hurt... I’m not going to try and say you can’t patrol, but if you’re in a situation like this again, can you tell me _before_ it escalates to you getting stabbed?” West’s voice was solemn. It wasn’t reprimanding, and it wasn’t making excuses, or telling them that they were too young to do this, to stop, or anything of the like. “We’re like a weird, distant family or something, and I don’t like seeing you guys hurt.”

Damian wondered if that was what a kind parent sounded like. Judging by Tiresias’ softened expression, perhaps it was. Perhaps that was what her mother had sounded like as well. No reprimands. No disappointment. Just concern. 

Well. If West was truly so concerned about their wellbeing, Damian supposed they could make a point to at least try and avoid any more knife-like situations again. But no promises.

“Fine,” Damian sniffed absently, “Tiresias and I will use more caution in the future. Or, call you. So that you can be the one stabbed next time.”

Tiresias laughed as she squeezed the Superman doll. In yet another act of sibling warfare, she reached over and set it down beside Damian. He scowled.

And in walked Batman to ruin the mood. Trouble often cane in pairs, of course, and beside Batman stood Nightwing as well. Tiresias stiffened, and her head snapped around to look at them. Flash, likewise, rocketed to his feet and stood warily between Damian and the duo, while casting uneasy glances to Tiresias’ hostile expression. Damian, for his part, remained frozen where he lay. The sight of Batman in the flesh- not his Batman, but the alarms in his head couldn’t differentiate. He caught himself leaning closer to the idiotic Superman plush for some kind of inane comfort.

Batman, though, simply stood in the doorway. Purposely trying to appear as unmenacing as possible, Damian noted; he’d seen the technique used before. Batman’s voice was deceptively quiet. The usual gravel was gone, and it just sounded like it was simply there. 

“I’m only here to check the vital monitor,” Batman stated. Damian deliriously thought, for a moment, that the tone was closer to _soothing_. Tiresias at least seemed mollified by the explanation, though it did not to lower her raised wrists. She carefully inclined her head to West, and the hero seemed to understand the gesture, crossing his arms in a show of forced nonchalance.

“Sure thing, Bats. Is it cool if I hang around?” 

Batman gestured towards the monitor. “By all means.”

But having Flash set with thinly veiled observation duty over Batman left Tiresias and Damian with Nightwing. And it was true that Damian had nightmares about Batman- would awake with sweat and terror, images burned into his brain- but it was easy to center afterwards. To assure himself that this was not his world, that this Batman was not his own. It helped, too, that Damian hardly saw him; that, aside from that one night in Keystone City, Batman left Damian alone. Let him cope on his own time. Understood, even. But, Nightwing? Nightwing gave Damian nightmares of a whole different class. Nightwing was a walking, living edifice of the brother he had lost, and he just didn’t get it. 

Nightwing cleared his throat. 

“Tiresias. Damian,” he greeted. Damian’s name sounded a little strained. Tiresias’ voice was as smooth and unfettered as marble, placid, false. 

“Nightwing.”

The polite falsehood reminded Damian of his Mother. Nightwing took a few steps forward, but Tiresias remained motionless. She clicked her tongue. “Did you ask?”

“Ask?” Nightwing appeared confused, glancing between her and Batman, “Ask what?”

“Ask my brother if he wanted to see you.”

Nightwing winced. He rubbed his hand on his neck, the palms of the gloves electric blue under the fluorescent lights. He was using his right hand for the motion. It was the little things that set the universes apart, but they were glaringly loud to Damian’s eyes. “No,” Nightwing said, “I guess I didn’t. But I figured that he’d want to see me?”

“You didn’t _ask_ ,” Tiresias stressed. But Nightwing wasn’t listening. Instead, he peered over her shoulder and looked to Damian, almost pleadingly, unmasked face now. But Damian flinched. It was a subtle thing, but it was there. Seeing Grayson’s face in the light, so close; it was- it was patrols at night, breakfast in the morning, bonding, laughing, fighting. It was a dead face on the ground of the Batcave. It was a dead expression and empty eyes and pale skin that had been there for hours, rigormortus setting in, the blood dried a flaky red on the ground and on his forehead. He’d tried to crawl to his brothers, the marks said. He- his eyes are so cold. It’s cold. Damian’s brother is dead, and he’s never coming back, and he’s dead on the ground and he’s bleeding, and he’s trying to crawl to Tim, because Jason is dead, and Barbara is dead, and Richard is trying to save them, he’s going to die, _he’s going to die_ -

“One Mississippi, two Mississippi, _three_ Mississippi- it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe like this, see? One Mississippi, two Mississippi- there we go...” Flash breathed. He’d set Damian’s hand on his chest, letting him feel the breathing, the inhale and exhale. Try to match it. A panic attack. Oh. Damian wondered why Batman wasn’t the one to trigger it. The trauma didn’t make sense. He didn’t understand. 

“-you don’t get to decide that!” Tiresias shouted in the background. She was fighting. Verbally, that was. Maybe physical, if she got much closer to Nightwing. As it was, Batman was standing off to the side, close enough to interfere but for some reason refraining.

“What, so I have to ask my own brother to visit him when _he nearly died._ ”

“You have to ask! You can’t just- you have to let him choose-“

“He’s still my brother!” Nightwing sounded half begging, half demanding. He had his fists clenched. 

“He is not!” Tiresias roared. “His brother is _dead!_ My best friend is dead! Dick’s favorite color was green, and he ate left-handed, and he. Is. Dead!”

Someone gasped from the doorway. Everyone looked- and it was Robin. The other Damian, the one that still had his brothers. Robin’s face was a shocked snarl, and before anyone could intervene, he launched himself at Tiresias, his sword out. Rushing towards her chest.

“Okay, no, no, we’re done here,” Flash stated as he popped in. He had the sword grip held in one hand, and he effortlessly plucked it away, before stepping back. “We aren’t fighting in Dami’s room- That’s not what’s happening. I think we should all leave, okay?”

It wasn’t a suggestion. That much, everyone understood. Robin vibrated with thinly concealed rage, yelling as he was dragged out by Nightwing, who was being not so happily lead out by Batman. Robin’s shouts were heard in the room still as he was lead down the hall. “What did he mean by ‘Dami’? Is that injured wretch supposed to be _me_?! I demand an explanation! _Father!_ ”

Tiresias began to walk out the door. Flash moved to stop her, “Hey, wait, Tia- I didn’t mean you too.”

Her smile was sad. “I need some time alone, Wally. Forgive me. Please, look after my brother for a little?”

Flash frowned, but nodded. Tiresias gave Damian a little wave as she stepped out into the hall, before disappearing from sight.

If he had known, of course, what was to happen, Damian would have begged for her to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm nightwing. Means well. But he doesn’t rlly get it and also trauma is funny bc Damian mostly comparmentalized The Batman Who Laughs vs Batman, but with Dick it’s just. Oh yeah I watched my brother die lol


	7. Chapter 7

The Watchtower.

Tiresias never truly enjoyed her time up here. Before, with Mother, it had been done occasionally as was necessary, and now the same could be said, minus the one Tiresias had held dear. But being onboard the station was like trying to move underwater; uncomfortable. Mother had always told her she was a gift from the Gods, formed from the islands of the sea- a story for a curious child, yes, but it still didn’t change the fact that Tiresias always felt more comfortable when she was back home again. Back on land, not drifting through space so softly. 

Maybe this was what lead her to the Boom Tube room as she walked through the Watchtower. Mostly, she just wasn’t looking as to where she was going. Literally, in her case. It was hard to concentrate when all she could think of was her rage and grief at Nightwing. Maybe some bitterness, too, some resentment. This Richard- all he had to do was ask. To ask for boundaries, for a relationship. To let Damian choose. 

‘That was what Wally did,’ she thought, a little snidely, a little happily. An, if he can do it, why can’t you? And then the sorrow too; of course Wally had been her friend before, and she was overjoyed at the relationship they had now. But she would always miss her old friend. And she would always, always miss Richard. She missed him every day, just like she missed her Mother, her friends. All he had to do was... accept that things were different, maybe. Richard wasn’t Damian’s brother, could never replace the man who was. But they didn’t have to be strangers. 

All he had to do was understand that. _We are not the same._ And yet, he didn’t.

It was frustrating to say the least, and rage inducing to say the most, with all the other colorful emotions inbetween. Tiresias closed her eyes, more for the sensation than any need for it, and sighed. 

“There is nothing for it.”

Quiet footsteps from the doorway, and then a familiar voice, one that she immediately placed. 

“Tt. You are not nearly as clever as you think, if you are hiding here.”

Tiresias turned to look at Damian. Not- not her Damian, she amended. This was Robin, the one of this world. The rude one. Tia stared at him for a moment, then tilted her head slightly.

“Who says I am hiding?” Tiresias asked. 

“Do not play dumb with me. _You_ are hiding. You disappeared from the imposter’s room before I could confront you, hiding in an empty wing.”

Tiresias could at least give him partial credit. She hadn’t realized that no one else was in the transporter room, but perhaps she had unconsciously sought that out as well. Still, she didn’t quite understand what he was trying to imply, but she didn’t like it, either.

“If you have something to say, I would prefer you say it,” Tiresias stated, staring down at him. “Or we can fight, and I can win.” 

This Damian made a sound like he was gritting his teeth. He most definitely drew his sword. Perhaps the insult wasn’t the correct choice for the conversation, but Tiresias was tired and she was angry. She waited. 

“Twice you have insulted me, and more than that, you have insulted my family. I will not stand for your slander any longer! If you wish to fight me instead of explaining,” and Damian growled, leaning forward in a sword stance, “then a fight we shall have!”

Tiresias set her face and readied her bracers. Hair that had been torn from its braid flowed around her face, and her armor was still rusty colored in places from blood. As she showed her teeth, she imagined that she looked like Mother. 

The older Damian charged. His footsteps were loud and wild across the metal floor, and the echoing made it easy to track, even easier to dodge. Hours of training with her Damian made this one predictable too, even if he was older and angrier. There was still the underlying structure of all his attacks, and that was the same. Sweep to the side. Slide back. Block with her bracers. She didn’t want to attack him, even if he was out for blood, because he was still a child and he was absolutely Batman’s child, and if Batman saw her draw blood from his own son, there would be little Tiresias or Wally could do to stop him. 

But so focused was Tiresias on dodging and blocking the attacks that she didn’t realize she was being herded, not until her foot stepped onto the transporter and she could hear the faint hum of it idling. She blinked in something like surprise. 

“Oh.”

She had enough time to look towards the cameras, and just barely enough time to say, “Damian-“

The older Damian roared and tackled her. The Boom Tube activated, and in a flash of light and a murmur of electricity, they both disappeared. There was a feeling of weightlessness before they both landed upon the ground- Tiresias rolling into a crouch, mirrored by Robin. She was dizzy for a moment, unsure where she was, and Damian capitalized on that by rushing forward and swinging his sword. It cut above her forearm, but only enough for a gash. She drew back.

“Where are we?” Tiresias demanded, her voice as solid as any Amazon. Damian bared his teeth.

“It doesn’t matter! You will tell me what I want to know. Who are you? Who is the imposter you keep company with? And why do you dare insult both my Father and Nightwing?” Damian’s voice was nearly a shout. They began to circle one another, neither gaining any real ground. Damian would occasionally snap forward, but Tiresias was always quicker.

“Who am I?” Tiresias echoed, her voice rough, “I am Tiresias, formerly of Themyscira! I am the daughter of Wonder Woman! I am the one who has come from a dimension apart, because the man who was your _father_ there killed everyone I loved!”

Damian’s anger was almost audible as he clanged his sword against her armor. “Lies! Father would never hide such a thing from me!”

Tiresias glared, flipping the sword away by the hilt and pushing him back. “You dare call me, an Amazon, a liar? Batman was told firsthand what happened, it’s in the files! It-“

She paused. Remembering. 

_“What the fuck?” Red Hood had said. “B killed us?” Silence, as Hood turned to Red Robin. “Did you know?”_

_Red Robin’s shaking voice. No. I- the files. They didn’t mention it.”_

The files. 

_”Batman always had a bad habit of trying to shield people around him. It usually does more harm than good.”_

Nightwing not understanding. The confusion there. The confusion now. 

Tiresias stared at Robin. She still kept him at arm’s length, but now, she did so out of caution, not rage.

“How much do you know?” Tiresias asked. It was almost a demand, but the conviction had left her voice, leaving only uncertainty. Damian growled.

“Clearly not as much as you. Which is why you will speak, or I will make you!” 

Tiresias knew her own brother well enough to tell when he was masking his own uncertainty. He lashed out. This Damian was the same. So she didn’t get angry, and she didn’t laugh, but she did silently scorn that she hadn’t noticed sooner. That she’d been too blinded by her own anger at Richard to realize that he- he didn’t know either. Just as the young one here.

So Tiresias lowered her guard, feeling the blood drip down her bracers and through her clenched palms. The next strike was easily blocked, and with a centered mind, easily countered. She put her hand on his arm and flipped the sword out of his grasp. Opening her mouth to speak, to firmly state that she was not his enemy, to- 

To blink, and suddenly, see the future. 

Tiresias and Damian stand in the alley. They are in an alley. Figures drop down. Out. Shrike. Shrike’s friends. Talking. Talking about what? Focus- Tiresias, focus.

Like clearing the ripples from a scribing pool. Shrike says she’s been tracking them. She broke out to get them. It’s their fault she was captured; she had been hungry and weak. Now she is not. Now she will win.

It ripples again. They fight. Tiresias and Damian lose. Damian should not have been here. They get taken away. To... somewhere fuzzy. Harder to focus. The ripples come back. She’s straining now. Shrike takes them to a cell. She says she’s goin to kill them. She says she will kill Damian first. Tiresias won’t let her. There’s a fight, and.

She dies.

Tiresias suddenly reeled back, letting go of Damian’s arm. It had only been half a second, at most, but her eyes bled and her head burned. She gasped like a woman drowning at sea.

“Get back!” She shouted. Had to get Damian away. Of course, it wouldn’t work, but she still tried to run from him. To save him. Maybe to draw more attention to herself, so Shrike wouldn’t see him. But Damian was, in every universe it seemed, stubborn and persistent. He charged after her, blocking her escape. Something in his stance was wary now, and maybe it was the gold dripping from her eyes, or the way her stance had shifted, but it didn’t matter now. It had been, it seemed, too late. Just as Tiresias had seen it, Shrike leapt down from the top of the nearby building. Had it only been her, perhaps they would have stood a chance. But then, more of her clan appeared. Flanking every exit, cutting off every route. Out of instinct and instinct alone, Tia stepped closer to Damian, flashing her bracers protectively. 

“Finally!” Shrike groaned, clicking her tongue behind sharp teeth. “Lucky me that you’re bleeding, or I never would’ve found you, hm?” 

As she spoke, she tilted her head back and forth. So did all of her followers. Tiresias clenched her hand again, feeling the blood trickle through her fingers, and she understood the first part of where she had gone wrong. Robin, however, didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. He glared up at the villain.

“Oh? And who do you think you are?”

Shrike laughed. It was sharp and cruel, and it became even more dangerous when, again, her clan joined her. “That’s cute. Didn’t your daddy tell you about me, little bird?” She leaned in. “I’m Shrike. I’m the _Butcherbird._ ” 

Tiresias spoke up. “I have defeated you before, and I can again.” False bravado. Maybe it would scare her away. Tiresias wondered if the Flash would be able to get here fast enough if she contacted him now. Would the Boom Tube even show where they had gone? Shrike was dangerous, Tiresias knew now. Dangerous and hungry, and she had them cornered like animals on a hunt, lost without their parents. But Tiresias was, at least, no baby lamb. 

“Before. Right. Well, see... I’ve got a few friends here, right?” A few of them giggled at the word ‘see’. “And they can do this neat little trick. I think you’d like to hear it, really.”

Memories of the fight swam in Tiresias’ mind, still blurry. Something about pain. What kind of pain? Something in the ears. Ears. Tiresias’ eyes widened then, and she slammed her hands over her ears. Just as Shrike’s followers all pulled out tiny devices from their pockets and pulled the pins. And the air was filled with shrill, deafening shrieking. So high pitched it wormed its way into Tiresias’ ears, slipping through her fingers and suffocating everything else. She couldn’t see with her eyes, and she couldn’t hear, and all she could do was try and lash out blindly, forcing past the pain. She hit something. Someone punched her from behind. She spun around, but they were at her back again, and then her shoulder, her arm. Tia dropped down and went for the knees, and she managed to grab someone, but not before they got her too. Something slammed into the side of her head. Oh. 

Tiresias slid to the ground, the sound still ringing in her ears. She fought against unconsciousness. Felt it curl around her as she tried to stand back up. She- swung at something. Spat out blood, felt a blow connect and hoped to the Gods that that meant she had done something right. Someone punched her neck, and another kicked her knees out from under herself, and Tiresias still fought and snarled, though blind and deaf she was. And she felt herself shouting, though she did not hear it. Curses and scorn. Damnations. Calls for blood. The words burned from her, and they only ceased as one final blow slammed into the side of her head once more. 

This time, Tiresias stayed down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And to think, Shrike was just a throwaway character at first. Look at my kid, all grown up (:


	8. Chapter 8

The heart monitor went silent. Damian stood up from his bed, roughly tearing the electrodes from his chest. He wasn’t so stupid as to tear out his IV, but the desire to do so burned at the back of his mind, and he stood on firmly unsteady feet. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to stand so suddenly after narrowly recovering from being stabbed and poisoned. But Damian didn’t care. He had to be stronger than that, stronger than some injury a mere child could have endured. Even if it hurt. The pain could, and _would_ , be ignored. 

“Flamebird, you need to calm down.” Batman’s voice was firm, but it sounded like it was coming from a faulty radio, far away and distant. Damian- he couldn’t focus on the words until after the fact, his eyes stuck on some empty point in space. Frozen. 

He wasn’t hyperventilating, at least. 

“Damian, hey... it’s gonna be okay. Come on, sit back down-“ West tried to assure, but Damian shook his head roughly, finally turning to look at Batman.

“What happened to Tiresias?” Damian demanded. “ _Where is my sister?_ ”

Flash shot a look to Batman. Batman glanced at them, and he looked a little more uncomfortable now, but still continued. 

“Tiresias and Robin were fighting in the transportation room. I only noticed when I was notified in the Monitor Womb that the Boom Tube had been activated, and the emergency coordinates scrambler used,” Batman stated. He crossed his arms, but it was a sign of discomfort, not an attempt at looming. Unlike, perhaps, Damian’s Batman. Flash had shot over to the other side of the room, typing rapidly on the computer and pulling up the security. And there, on the screen, was Tiresias. At first, simply standing and staring out into space. Damian’s gut twisted at the sight of his sister, the way her face screamed of sorrow. Alone, where no one would have to see her, where Damian and West couldn’t be worried. 

The feed changed. Robin entered. Words were said, and then thrown, exchanging vitriol as blows began to fly. Damian frowned. He could see that the Flash was bouncing on the balls of his feet, that Batman had started rubbing the pad of his thumb over his gauntlet. Damian felt like he was vibrating out of his skin. And then Tiresias- it was a trap. She knew that too. She stepped onto the transporter pad, pushed back by the attacks, and as the machine began to activate she shot a look to the corner with the camera. 

_”Damian-“_ Tiresias‘ voice said. It wasn’t directed to Batman’s Damian; it was directed to _him_. And of course his sister, his damnable sister, her last words here would be an attempt at soothing. At reassuring. In a flash of light, the Boom Tube activated, and then she disappeared from screen, with the spoiled, arrogant Damian of this world. Leaving the screen empty, and barren. 

Flash was the first to react. He ran out of the room, and back in just as fast. He looked frazzled. Damian, in response, took the IV from his arm. Life saving intravenous fluids or not, his sister was missing. And if their coordinates were scrambled, that meant their location was unknown too. 

“Where did they go?” Damian demanded, turning to Batman. “You designed the security- you know the workarounds then. Where are they?”

Batman‘s frown deepened. He turned to the computer, typing in commands on a black screen. “This will take some time. I doubled the security after you both told me of Dark Earth 22.” 

He had been worried. Maybe it would have been touching, at any other time. Now though, every moment they spent wasted was another moment Tiresias was in danger. In danger, with Robin. The older Damian had wanted a fight to the death. And Tiresias- she wouldn’t want to kill him. Even if it killed her.

West was nearly vibrating across the floor. He’d slid his cowl back on, but only so that he could tug at the sides, rub at his wrists. “She’ll be fine. The Boom Tube doesn’t just drop you somewhere dangerous, so she’s fine. Maybe she’s in a city. Somewhere with people. Robin won’t kill her- even if he could, I mean, but he can’t, right? It’s, that’s crazy. She’s fine. Bats, how much longer?” 

“Hm. They’re in the American Northwest.”

“That’s- that’s not helpful, actually. Don’t you have trackers on Robin?”

“He’s disabled them,” Batman sounded begrudgingly impressed, but largely annoyed. 

There was the crackle of a communicator. Damian grabbed his, but it was silent. West, however, had his hand up to his ear, and his eyes were wide. He ran over to Batman. 

“Tiresias- she’s on the line, she’s on the line!” Flash fumbled the words. Batman, at least, understood what to do. He pulled up more pages on the screen, and then, simultaneously began tracing the signal’s location while pulling up the broadcast line. It crackled over the speakers for a moment. Then, though labored, it played. Batman adjusted the audio to account for a strange, unplaceable screeching noise.

At first, it was just a thud. A few thunks, the more obvious sounds of combat. Then, a strained hiss. It sounded like the sound had been torn from their lips, and then, the distinct sound of blood being spit out, gurgling and sharp. And Damian’s worse fears became realized, as the voice cleared.

“Let go!” Tiresias snarled. Damian had- he’d heard her like this before. Back home. When they’d fought against Batman, to what they thought was their demise. It was a death snarl. There was more fighting, and there was screaming in the background. Shouting. “You will regret that!” The voice of an older Damian. And laughing, horrible, familiar laughter. Flash appeared at Damian’s side in a moment; the movement had been unconscious, but spoke volumes of the danger of the voices on the line. 

“βάλλ' εἰς κόρακας! Αχθος αρούρης! κνώδαλον!” Tiresias howled. Damian sucked in his breath. Translating.

“...Give yourself to the crows. You’re a burden to the Earth. Brute, or worse than a brute.”

Curses. Curses to their graves, curses to their gods. Curses through blood in her mouth. And then, there was another loud slam, right against the communicator itself, followed by a breathless gasp and the thud of a body falling to the ground. Silence. Robin had already been knocked out then, and with this, Tiresias followed. The line fell silent. The sound crackled again, being dragged through the dirt.

“Hurry up and grab them. Before their _daddy_ shows up,” Shrike hissed. Damian glanced to Flash. Batman made a deep sound.

“They’re in Gotham. I’m sending you the coordinates. Twenty-first Oaxten Street. Flash.”

West didn’t need to be told twice. He disappeared in a blink of red, towards the transporter room. Leaving Damian with Batman, both of them without words. Damian’s sister was in danger. But Batman’s son was in danger too. As Batman turned to the man who was his father in another life, he didn’t feel fear or anger. He didn’t feel the crippling loss as sharply as before. He felt something sad, but not mourning. It was settling.

“He’d be proud of you,” Batman said, out of the blue. Damian blinked at him. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your Batman. He would have been proud of you,” and before Damian could ask how he would have known that, Batman added, “I am. You’re exceptionally brave and devoted; Flash is lucky you two are with him.”

Damian lowered his eyes to the floor for a moment. He thought often of his father, but never of the man his father was, of the good he did, if he would have been proud of Damian. It was easier to not, at times. But now, it was something like a soothing of guilt and remorse, to hear that. To believe it, maybe even a little. Damian wouldn’t be sitting alone with Batman of his own free will, but now, this was fine. Batman said no more, and turned back to the monitor. “Flash made it to the location... negative, they’re gone. He’s going to sweep the city.”

Damian looked up sharply. “I’ll help look.”

No comment to rest. No demand to stay behind. Batman simply nodded, “Of course. You’ll need backup.”

“The Flash.”

“No, you’ll only slow him down.” Batman gave Damian a look. “The only available person I trust to help you is onsite.”

The door opened. Nightwing stepped in, clearly uncomfortable. He waved. 

“Hey, little d.”

If this was the price to pay to find his sister again, Damian would pay it. But, as he stared at Nightwing, he couldn’t help but wonder, bitterly, if the universe was punishing him for the choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gang learns what happened, and Damian and Nightwing have to team up. This is gonna be fun
> 
> And by fun I mean kinda mean but needed  
> Sorry nightwing but you gotta learn the truth, and Damian has to deal with his trauma
> 
> But not before we swap back to Tiresias’ perspective. What’s Shrike planning to do with them? Will the team get there in time? So many questions


End file.
